


Material

by philos_manthanein



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mostly Fluff, mild possessive behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 16:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8540977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philos_manthanein/pseuds/philos_manthanein
Summary: Jeremy and Waylon spend a holiday break together.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reno/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for Reno~  
> Also, the title is taken from a Blaqk Audio song by the same name. I think it's a pretty fitting Jeremy-centric song.

It's the first autumn break Jeremy is spending with Waylon, and neither of them have thought to plan anything. Waylon is never keen to spend the holidays with his own family. After hearing about his life growing up, in bits and pieces over the last year or so, Jeremy can hardly blame him. Jeremy doesn't particularly want to go home either.

He does enjoy his family, when they aren't squabbling, but he's still entangled in the newness of his relationship. It would be awkward, he thinks, to leave Waylon behind during such a sentimental time. (He remembers finding Waylon sitting so lonely and sad in the library last year.) Awkward still to bring him home to “meet the parents” so suddenly. Jeremy hasn't even told his family they are dating.

He hears Waylon shuffling around in the kitchen. Making a bowl of cereal, sounds like. His typical morning routine since moving from the dorm into Jeremy's rented house. God, they're living together - in the house Jeremy's parents pay for - and his parents don't even know. He can just perfectly imagine how furious his mother would be. Not that he's with a man, but that she didn't get the chance to approve that he's the _right type_ of man for her son.

It's hard to imagine anyone not falling for Waylon, but Jeremy sees things in him that Waylon doesn't even see in himself.

Well, he's really in deep, isn't he?

Jeremy finally climbs out of bed. He goes about his own bathroom routine, noting the only sign Waylon did the same was the crookedness of his toothbrush in its holder. He remembers Waylon's dorm room being more disheveled. Not filthy but not pristine.

Since Waylon moved in he's more particular about not disturbing things. Like it's still Jeremy's space he's intruding on, months later. Like he's still not fully comfortable, secure, that Jeremy wants him here. Jeremy's not sure how to feel about that. A vague unpleasant feeling twists around in his chest.

Jeremy finds Waylon at the dining table, eating his cereal and looking over something on his laptop. He's still in his pajamas, some loose tee and flannel bottoms, and his sandy hair is still a mess. Jeremy is still in his sleep pants, though he did brush out his hair and took off his wrinkled shirt. Maybe he shouldn't be so concerned with Waylon's sense of wanting to impress, or whatever it is. Jeremy is still a little concerned with keeping up his own various facades too.

He walks up behind Waylon, smiling a little when he tenses in surprise, then settles when Jeremy wraps his arms around Waylon's front. Jeremy peers at the laptop screen, but can't make out anything from the windows and lines of random code. They're supposed to have four days off for Thanksgiving, but he knows Waylon would spend the entire break getting a head start on homework and working on his little side projects if he'd let him.

Jeremy appreciates his work ethic, but he's also selfish and jealous. He begins pressing kisses against Waylon's neck and jaw. It earns him a snort, and a laugh. Waylon leans back a little, reaching one hand away from his bowl to scratch his fingers gently through Jeremy's hair.

“Morning.” Waylon says softly, still sounding a little sleepy despite being up at least an hour earlier.

“Working again?” Jeremy asks against his skin.

Waylon shivers a little and shifts, like he's been caught doing something bad. “Just a little. You were sleeping, so...”

“Well, I'm not anymore.” Jeremy replies, letting a hand slip further down over Waylon's shirt, stopping over his soft stomach.

“So needy.” Waylon teases, leaning forward just enough to put his cereal bowl on the table.

Jeremy doesn't mind the teasing, because now Waylon's attention is all his again. It banishes that uncertain feeling he had earlier. Replaces it with something warm, melting and spreading under his skin. He's never felt so affectionate; used to roll his eyes and scoff at his friends' PDA and over-the-top romance movie garbage. Now he sort of understands.

“You need me too.” Jeremy says, biting and sucking at Waylon's neck, earning a low happy noise from him.

“Mm, of course.” Waylon affirms, craning his neck after Jeremy is done leaving a bright red mark on his skin. “Kiss me?”

Jeremy grins and meets Waylon's mouth as asked. He opens easily, letting Jeremy decide how deep and slow the kiss will be. And it is, something soft and warm and short if only because their position is odd. The taste of Waylon's chocolate cereal is odd against the lingering flavor of Jeremy's minty toothpaste, but not entirely unpleasant. When they part, Jeremy goes back to brushing his lips against Waylon's jaw, moving to his ear.

“Wanna go back to bed?” He asks softly, grinning when Waylon laughs.

“No, c'mon,” Waylon says. “We just got up!”

“You sure?” Jeremy prods, teasing the spot just under Waylon's ear with his teeth.

If Jeremy really had his way, he'd have Waylon over the kitchen table that second. Would shove that damn laptop and everything else to the floor. He's always been a little feral when it came to sex. Waylon's not delicate, either. Jeremy knows enough about him to know Waylon would get a thrill from that too, even though he'd probably make some withering complaint after.

For some reason, though, Jeremy can't bring himself to ruin this abjectly soft and warm moment. Well, not entirely anyway. He does slide his hand down further, from Waylon's stomach under the hem of his shirt. Slipping his fingertips under the band of his pajama pants, but not much lower. Teasing through the hair just over his cock.

Waylon makes a humming noise. Jeremy hears him suck on his bottom lip; something he always does when Jeremy succeeds at trying to arouse him. And Jeremy is always successful at that.

Within seconds Waylon is climbing off the chair. He stands and turns to Jeremy, who easily moves his hands to Waylon's hips, welcoming the press of his body and the heated kiss he's drawn into. Waylon's arms go over his shoulders, hands and fingers sliding up into his hair and pulling. Not a lot, Waylon always holds back these glimmers of ferocity that Jeremy so wants to bring out of him. Someday, he hopes.

Jeremy starts to walk them backward towards the bedroom. It's difficult, with how close they are. He breaks the kiss to try and direct them better. It's too late, though, Waylon's feet trip him up and they both topple, flailing loudly to the floor.

Waylon lands on top of him, smacking all the air out of Jeremy's lungs. He makes a pained sound that dissolves very quickly into a laugh. Waylon's laughing too, pushing himself up off of Jeremy's chest and apologizing between titters that reveal he's probably not as sorry as he says.

Jeremy isn't angry about the stumble, can't be, not when he can admire the mirthful shine in Waylon's eyes and the pink flush of his cheeks. He hope he's the only one who gets to see him like this. So outright happy, Waylon's expression eases all the ache that was blooming in his chest. He reaches up, sliding his fingers along Waylon's jaw around to the back of his neck, pulling him forward into another kiss. Grins when he feels Waylon smiling against his mouth.

Jeremy wants to keep Waylon to himself, not as a shameful secret but some sort of invaluable thing the world has no right to have. Only him. If he could, he'd keep him locked away forever. Would give him anything he wanted if Waylon would just stay his.

Eventually, Waylon pulls away, gets to his feet, and grabs Jeremy's hand to help pull him back up. He's still smiling, though it holds a much more alluring promise. He doesn't let go of Jeremy's hand. Instead he uses it to pull Jeremy along, completing their short trek into the bedroom. At the edge of the bed Jeremy grabs Waylon's shirt and lifts it, easily removing it with Waylon's help and tossing it to the floor. He gives him a short kiss, then shoves him back to the bed.

He plans to climb over him, but pauses to look him over. Noting the tell-tale way Waylon bites his bottom lip and the shallowness of his breath, the way his chest rises and falls. Something flickers in his stare, another fleeting hint of something wild in him, as he starts to take off his flannel bottoms. Waylon throws them at Jeremy. Then grins as he lays back against the bed, naked and waiting and very obviously aroused.

After Jeremy slips off his own pants he does climb in over him. There is an ever-growing trail of red and purple marks leading up his chest and neck and Jeremy pauses at his collarbone to add another. Waylon scoffs, shifting under him, but doesn't make him stop.

“You're an animal,” Waylon says through a huffy laugh, “I have to wear scarves in class 'cause of you.”

Jeremy waits until he's done adding to the collection before he replies, “You look good in scarves.”

“Not the point.” Waylon rolls his eyes.

“Then don't cover up.” Jeremy grins, settling his legs fully between Waylon's and feeling a little thrill when Waylon hooks them about his hips, drawing him closer.

“You'd like that too much,” Waylon replies, his hands again settling at the back of Jeremy's head to play with his short hair, “Everyone getting to see what you do to me.”

“Maybe. Let them see you're all mine...” Jeremy says.

Waylon goes quiet then. He seems surprised, probably a little embarrassed by how forward Jeremy is. But he smiles and shakes his head. Tells Jeremy he's ridiculous before tugging him down to kiss again. Jeremy wants to tell him it's his fault. That he's the only one he's wanted to claim so fully. The only one that makes him feel so out of control of his own feelings. He can't bring himself to actually say so out loud. Maybe someday.

Jeremy rocks his hips forward, slowly sliding them together. The friction of his cock against Waylon's makes him grow harder. It's almost too much, combined with the wanting noise that roils in Waylon's throat. They fuck so much, not as much as the first few weeks, but enough that Jeremy would think it would get at least a little boring. It always has before, with other men and women he's had since he was a teen. But Waylon never ceases to excite him with every angle and curve of his body. Undeniably masculine but soft too. Some sort of perfect balance for someone with Jeremy's tastes.

It takes a lot to pull away but he does. If only for long enough to grab the lubricant from the bedside table. It's almost empty, another testament to their still-fiery sex life. He considers grabbing a condom, something that's become less of a requirement since they've been together. He forgoes it this time, wanting to feel Waylon entirely.

He has a lot of trust in Waylon to think he's been faithful. It sends a little spike of warmth into his abdomen to realize Waylon must trust that Jeremy has been faithful too. And he has.

Jeremy slides back over to Waylon, crawling between his legs again. He leaves some more space between their hips this time. He squeezes some of the lubricant onto his fingers, knowing it's only been hours since the last time, but still wanting to prep him fully. If not to open him up more, then to enjoy the way Waylon reacts to getting fingered.

It's worth it when he brushes two fingertips over Waylon's hole, to see how he lets his legs fall open. How he licks his lips and looks up at Jeremy so affectionately. Savoring the little needy noises he makes when Jeremy presses his fingers in.

As he thought, Waylon isn't so resistant. But he's still tight. Still a little wet too. Jeremy imagines what he's like when they fuck before he heads to class. Thinks of Waylon walking around campus and sitting through lectures still full of his cum.

Of course that propels him further. He pulls his fingers away quicker than Waylon anticipated, judging from the way he writhes and pants out Jeremy's name. Any hint of complaint is silenced, though, after Jeremy starts to work his lubed up cock inside him. Again, Waylon hooks his legs around Jeremy's hips, using his calves to press him forward. Deeper. Impatient.

When Jeremy's hips are pressed tight against the curve of Waylon's ass he leans forward, elbows on either side of Waylon's head and their bodies pressed flush. Jeremy still supports most of his own weight on his arms, but wants to be close. Wants to feel the warm slide of Waylon's skin against his when he starts to rock into him. Rolling his hips in tight waves, pushing his cock as deep as he can, then settling back. It's slow. Intimate in ways Jeremy can't exactly comprehend but still feels.

Waylon raises his hands, sliding them back along the sheets and along Jeremy's arms. He nudges his palms under Jeremy's, who lets him, until their fingers are laced. Jeremy holds the grip tight, for some reason feeling a wash of heat rush up his arms and down his spine from the gesture.

They kiss until the slow motions are too agonizing and Jeremy has to speed up. The transition is so easy, from something so gentle to fucking Waylon into the mattress. Still close, every inch of skin that can touch does. Waylon's legs locks so tight around him, his hips arcing to meet every thrust of his cock. Jeremy tucks his face against Waylon's warm neck. Feeling Waylon's racing pulse against his lips, his own heartbeat leaping with every sigh and moan that falls from Waylon's mouth.

He feels Waylon's cock between them, slick with their sweat and rubbing against Jeremy's abdomen. Jeremy thinks about pulling back enough to touch it. To work it with his hand and make Waylon cum with his name on his tongue. He doesn't get the chance, because as he's thinking that Waylon tightens around him, making him go still. Waylon's hands and legs go tight too. Jeremy feels Waylon's cum make his skin even more slick. Only when he seems to relax a little does Jeremy pick up again, encouraged by Waylon's breathless words for him not to stop.

Jeremy cums soon after, snapping his hips forward one last time, shoving his cock in so deep Waylon lets out a broken sort of shout. He fills him and holds him in that position even after, breathing in the smell of his skin and the taste of his sweat.

Waylon lets him stay like that, then gently says his hands hurt. Jeremy hadn't even realized how hard his grip had gotten. He apologizes, then unlaces their fingers and pulls out. Sits back on his legs so he can admire the wreck he's made of Waylon, red faced and sweat dampened hair and still panting. The sight makes him grin and Waylon returns it. He seems a little more shy about acknowledging that he feels as good as he looks.

Someday Jeremy will take away every last hint of insecurity Waylon has.

They should really shower, but Jeremy is spent at the moment, so he does as good a job he can cleaning them up with some tissues on the nightstand. When he flops back against the pillows, Waylon crawls over to him. He thinks Waylon is going to lay against his chest, like he often does. Instead, Waylon leans in, brushing his nose against Jeremy's jaw. And then Jeremy feels his mouth against his neck, then teeth.

Jeremy tenses a bit. A hot, tickling feeling spreading from the bite and twisting its way down his spine. Waylon's never been brave enough to mark him the same way. It's not unwanted, just a surprise. Surprising more that Jeremy doesn't mind.

When Waylon pulls away he's smiling. His gaze lingers at the spot, seeming pleased by the bruise that's surely forming there. Then he finally lays his head against Jeremy's chest, which makes Jeremy chuckle.

“That was unexpected.” Jeremy says, reaching a hand up to run through Waylon's still-damp hair.

“Consider it revenge.” Waylon sighs happily, leaning a little into Jeremy's touch. “Don't worry, you can borrow one of my scarves.”

Jeremy laughs at that too. He doesn't say it out loud, but he has no plans to cover it up at all.

 


End file.
